The Sleeping Life (Eferum Book 2) (18 page)

"Could you tell what this other enchantment on his mask was?" Kendall hadn't untangled more than the fact that it was magical.

Sukata shook her head, but then Rennyn, voice croaky, said: "Both of those doors behind the Emperor had recognition wards on them, and that mask felt like it belonged to them. There may be other places in the Empire set so that you can enter only if wearing one of those as a key. Samarin seems to be swimming in a haze of enchantment, however. Let me know if you unravel any more."

Since it was all just magical buzz to Kendall, she shrugged and went to offer Rennyn the juice. "Are you going to try and get rid of him before we go north to the forest?" she asked.

"It would be interesting to try. But I suspect his value as a deterrent is real. Illidian tells me there are at least two more among our hired staff he considers suspect, but are likely spies, not here to thieve, and will lose interest once I've addressed that matter." Rennyn looked across at Sukata. "And while Aurai's Rest is relatively private, it is no secret, and Illidian does not believe it will be harmed by having an agent of the Kolan Emperor visiting it."

"You are intending to deal with the interest in Thought casting?" Sukata asked, not showing any reaction to the mention of the Kellian's forest home.

Rennyn nodded. "Before we leave Koletor I will have a small manual published. I would have preferred more time to draft something in-depth and considered, but the core of Thought is so very basic, after all, that I can put something relatively clear together, and hopefully get some of these watchers out of the way. Perhaps even save some lives."

"You're not starting that this morning," Kendall said, firmly, taking the empty glass. "We'll read to you if you can't sleep."

Rennyn's eyelashes lowered ominously, and it was hard for Kendall not to think of Samarin talking of Thought Mages as a threat. Rennyn Claire, thin, tired and drawn, could still kill annoyances with less effort than it took her to get out of bed. Kendall glowered back at her, not budging an inch.

With a sigh, Rennyn gave in. "Lieutenant Meniar and Illidian are being tiresome. But it's not worth arguing about." Adding a faint grimace of apology, she rearranged her covers and closed her eyes.

It was a sham. Kendall could see from the set of her shoulders, the way one thin hand gripped the sheet, that Lady Once-Powerful was going to lie there and stew in her frustration for a while. There was no help for it, so Kendall soft-footed her way back to the window to practice drawing sigils and wonder what the world would be like when Thought Mages with nastier tempers than Rennyn's were roaming about being cranky with people. Kendall started to wonder if
she'd
end up able to kill people as soon as glower at them. And whether she would.

She thought about that all day, while they hunted for the hidden library, and when Rennyn eventually came down and opened the door the Pest finally found concealed in the cellar, and after Lieutenant Meniar cast the focus detection.

And the divination pointed east.

oOo

After much excitement, Rennyn settled the question of whether her Wicked Uncle was in the city by travelling to an inn at Koletor's eastern edge and having Lieutenant Meniar cast the focus detection again. When it continued to point east, they could at least rule out imminent threat, although Illidian accepted Dezart Samarin's offer of extra guards without even a small hesitation.

"Do you think you have the strength to cast the variation immediately?" Rennyn asked.

Lieutenant Meniar shrugged. "So long as no-one minds me sleeping the rest of the day." He paused. "And needing to be carried back to the house."

No-one objected, so Lieutenant Meniar re-chalked the divination, and added north to their east before sitting down heavily on a chair.

"Will this change your plans?" Dezart Samarin said.

"Until the other Sentene arrive, pursuit is not wise," Illidian said. "After that, the simplest thing to do would be to continue to divine the direction as we travel to Aurai's Rest, since it is both north and a short way east of here."

"Combined with the last divination that indicated west, we've now narrowed the location to this band through Kole, Semarrak, Alisar or Fye," Rennyn said, marking the map Illidian had brought along. "Which is the most progress we've made since my Wicked Uncle left Asentyr."

"I'll request reports on unexplained deaths in that region," Dezart Samarin said. "And arrange for the extra security. I can also arrange for transport north, if you wish it."

He pulled down his mask before leaving, and Rennyn already knew Kole well enough to recognise that this simple adjustment would guarantee that there would be no interference from the more-than-suspicious owner of the inn, who had been most dubious about the use they were making of his best parlour.

"A useful addition," she said, a little amused to have found another person inclined to organise everything around her. "I very much hope our interests continue to run in the same direction."

"His concern regarding the missing mages seems genuine," Illidian said, erasing the few remaining traces of the Sigillic from the floor. "And Prince Helecho too great a potential threat to ignore. The whole of Kole's strength might be needed."

As they replaced furniture shuffled aside to allow Lieutenant Meniar to mark out his circle, Rennyn wondered if their search would truly lead to an all-out battle. If her Wicked Uncle did intend to lead an Eferum-Get army to conquer this world, would he start with Kole? Perhaps he was in those two northern kingdoms—Alisar or Fye—where… Rennyn knew nothing about them, except the likelihood that the places would be cold. At some point her over-protective escorts would start suggesting the hunt would have to wait until after winter. Her Wicked Uncle had already been allowed far too much time to set his schemes in motion.

"Should we worry about the chance he's waiting for us at Aurai's Rest?" Lieutenant Meniar asked, hauling himself reluctantly out of his chair.

"That would be an extremely dangerous place for him," Illidian replied. Then he added reluctantly: "Though a tactically well-chosen one."

For there were few defending mages at the Rest, and the Kellian were weak to magic. While her Wicked Uncle could not command them as Solace had, the Kellian were an extremely dangerous force, and a mage of Helecho Montjuste-Surclere's skill would have a wide range of bindings and enslavement castings to choose from.

Rennyn could not avoid the memory of a net closing around her, a cage of words, and a wash of pain and gloating violation. She forced herself not to turn her thoughts away. This instinctive flinching could be her undoing if she was unfortunate enough to meet her Wicked Uncle again.

Breathing deeply, Rennyn allowed herself once again to admit that he was likely a better mage than she, and that she was afraid. But she would not turn him into her own personal horror, would not accept this paralysis. If she met him again, she would act.

Illidian's hand on her shoulder came as silent reminder that, unlike Solace, this was not a battle she had to face alone. Although there were times when she felt that her increasing collection of friends and allies only gave her more people to worry about.

She smiled up at her husband, then asked: "Shall we allow our Imperial representative to wave his mask and conjure up transport?"

"There is no reason not to make use of him," Illidian said, as Keste Faral solved the problem of an exhausted mage companion by lifting him into her arms.

Lieutenant Meniar, brown skin darkening for several different reasons, said: "I'd like him if I dared trust him. But a gift horse that talented has to have a nasty kick. I don't imagine you get to wear that mask just by smiling all the time."

Keste, who was one of the least talkative Kellian of Rennyn's acquaintance, spoke then, her voice soft and contemplative.

"And yet he wears it as if he hates it."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The sights, scents and sounds of a sprawling Kolan market would have had Kendall trying to look in every direction at once, except that Sukata was angry. Kendall wasn't entirely certain if the Kellian girl was so furious because of Rennyn, or perhaps Kendall, but she sure made it hard to pay attention to anything else. Angry Kellian were like chained lightning, and a little pool of startled silence followed them wherever they went. It didn't help that Sukata had left behind the hat she usually wore on sunny days, and was lit up like a candle: hair, eyes, and pointed nails all vivid flames announcing that here was something different, dangerous. Even the Pest, who had started out nearly as upset as Sukata, couldn't take his eyes off her.

Nor could his high-and-mightiness Samarin, who had spotted them leaving and followed like a hound on blood scent. He at least had stowed his mask in a big inner pocket of his cloak before prowling along behind them, but he still acted like he thought that the world was there to entertain him, and that Sukata was as good as a play. Kendall hadn't learned nearly enough Kolan to understand what people were murmuring as they passed, but Sukata was getting more attention than Kendall thought smart. And they'd be here all afternoon if she kept stalking past everything without even looking.

Rennyn hadn't even explained why she suddenly wanted musical instruments. Small ones and different from each other was all she would say, gazing off into the distance. And then suddenly Sukata and Fallon were being all white and agonised and tiresome. All over stupid magic lessons too.

Kendall lagged behind, trying to at least
look
for instruments. The market filled a broad square paved with sandstone. The only permanent structure was a central knee-high pool tiled with shiny blue and green, which looked to Kendall like an outsize Kolan bath in the wrong place. The rest of the space was a maze of bulging tents, light wooden stalls with wheels on one side, and blankets spread between them, so you couldn't let your feet wander without risking tramping over glassware or piles of clothes. Everything was so close-packed there was barely room for the heaving crowd.

A jangle of notes cut through the noise. Kendall peered about, and oriented on a pair of boys being chased off from a stall hidden down a narrow corridor formed by the backs of two rows of tents. "Let's try down there," she said, but Sukata was still too busy being angry, disappearing into the crowd ahead.

With an irritated shrug, Kendall let her go. Sukata might be carrying the purse Rennyn had given them, but Kendall had enough Kolan coin to make at least small purchases, and would have no problem finding her way back to the house. Some time alone to think would be a good thing.

You saw a lot more of what a person was like when they lost their temper. Sukata would assuredly get over her snit and go back to acting the way she usually did, but having seen her like this, Kendall had to seriously wonder how much of the way Sukata usually behaved was Sukata. Almost every Sentene mage Kendall had talked to had been obsessed with living up to their Kellian partners, and they'd all in some way or other said that Kellian were very proud, and that while they were extremely polite, they rarely had a high opinion of people. Sukata acted all quiet and obliging, but right now Kendall could easily believe that she thought people who weren't Kellian were little more than bugs.

That was probably the wrong way to look at it. But it was worth thinking about some more. Kendall put it aside for later as she reached the stall, pleased to spot a set of pipes among a mix of scraps of silk and cheap jewellery. And there was a line of fine-cast bells. The stall-keeper, a lanky carrot-top, eyed her like he expected her to act like the kids he'd chased off, so she pointed at the second-smallest bell and said "How much?" in Kolan.

The gabble in response was stupidly fast, but Kendall managed to pick out the price, and countered with something more reasonable. Carrot-top shook his head, but smilingly produced a cowbell from beneath the display-top and clanked it as if it was worth listening to. Kendall firmly pointed back at her first choice, and offered a tiny bit more. She wasn't—

A hand, reeking of perfume, clapped over her mouth. Pulled back against a man where there should only be tent wall, arms trapped, Kendall was lifted and turned so that her lashing boot missed the stall. She tried biting, working to find flesh, but Smelly had his hand cupped and already they were out of the sun, slipping through draping canvas.

Dim space. A second man, stubbled face beneath a tight-tied green scarf. People, girls, on the floor, lying unmoving. Chained to the centre pole.

Green Scarf lifted a chain ending in a cuff. Worked power itched at Kendall even before she spotted the sigils up and down the pole, and she wriggled frantically, then remembered that she was the student of someone who could kill people at a glance, and no-one to be messed with.

But her attempt to push her captors away with Thought was as successful as holding back a river with bare hands. This was bigger than bowls, and it felt as if all the energy she put against them melted away. Kendall tried again, straining to stop Green Scarf coming any nearer. He didn't budge, but the chain could be worked on, springing from his hands to clatter back against the centre pole.

The hand over Kendall's mouth lifted long enough for Smelly to clip her smartly across the ear. He was quick to replace his hand before she could yell, but even with her head reeling, Kendall managed to sink her teeth into flesh and dug in with vicious satisfaction as he grunted and stifled a yell. But the distraction had given Green Scarf time to retrieve his cuff and before she'd more than felt the grip on her foot he'd clapped it around her ankle.

Green Scarf had to hold the cuff closed, fumbling to thread through a bulky padlock, and Kendall kicked again, trying to jam his fingers. The etched Sigillic was active, and filled her legs with jelly while a sheep came to sit on her head. Green Scarf dug his fingers in, clicking the padlock home, then said something in a gabble that didn't sound Kolan. Smelly let Kendall go, and she plonked down on her behind, struggling not to pass out because she really needed to yell, not just sit and let them win.